Reflections
by Brightgemini
Summary: When a tragic accident leaves Hatter alone in a strange world without his Alice, he comes up with some creative ideas about how to get home, including posing as a nerdy university student named Connor Temple to gain access to the fascinatingly strange Anomalies that he thinks may be his only hope. However as his desire to go home wavers, he has some hard choices to make.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay so I know obviously this is an idea that has been done before. In fact, I'm sure I've read very similar fanfics... but this is my take on it and I'm hoping it will go some new and interesting directions when I really get into incorporating my personal head canons.**

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Like most of the situations that Hatter got himself into, he started with questionable intentions. It wasn't that he wanted to hurt anyone, he honestly didn't expect to be around long enough to be in the position to do so, but his intentions in worming his way into the anomaly program were selfish none the less. He didn't want to be in this world anymore. Not since had lost Alice. When it had first happened, it had all felt like one big cosmic joke. After all they had been through while overthrowing the Queen of Hearts, his brave, fierce Alice died while crossing the street on her way home from work.

It was his fault, he had decided, he was cursed. He had never quite figured out if this world had real curses, but it seemed likely that he had brought one with him when he came here. After all, his life in Wonderland had be plagued by similar misfortune for as long as he could remember, iIt only made sense that now, when he had finally found peace and happiness and a place to call home where he didn't have to pretend to be something he wasn't constantly, it only made sense that something would yank the rug out from under his feet and send him spiraling back into the chaos of his old ways. He had stayed America for a little while, Carol Hamilton had been ever so good to him after all, he couldn't just abandon her in the wake of her daughter's death, but after some time, he knew he couldn't stay any longer. He wanted to go home.

The exact details of how he'd ended up in London were a little vague to him, he had really intended to just wander for a while after he had determined that he was unlikely to get home through the Looking Glass as Jack was unlikely to open it again for quite some time now that he was tasked with rebuilding Wonderland's… well, everything. But regardless of how it happened, London was where he'd discovered the Anomalies and the odd creatures they spat out, his first glimmer of hope at getting home. He knew what Dinosaurs were, of course, in fact, since his arrival in this world a few years before, he'd become a little obsessed with them, or so Alice had teased, them and the computers and the sciences that had been so inaccessible to him in Wonderland. So he knew the creatures didn't come from some other world but from this one's past, but the hope was still there. After all, if something so impossible as a rip in time could exist, who was to say that he couldn't find a rip between worlds?

That was an idea he'd clung to for a while after he started going by the name Connor Temple and fashioned himself a life as a college student in the class of the man whose passions seemed to lean in a similar direction as his did and, eventually, found himself on the ARC team. He had really only intended on it being a short term thing, but weeks had turned to months and before he knew it, he was moving in with his teammate, Abby Maitland, to escape the shitty apartment he'd been renting since arriving in London. That was when his hope had started to give way to reality and when Abby had cleared out the loft so he could stop kipping on the couch, his situation had started to feel… permanent.

"Connor?" Abby's voice startled him out of his thoughts as she said his name in a tone that made him think she'd been trying to get his attention for a few minutes. His name. He wasn't sure when he'd stopped considering Connor an alias and just started thinking of it as his name.

"Sorry," He shook his head, like he was trying to shake the thoughts out of his head, "What were you saying?"

"I asked if you're okay." She informed him, a little frown creasing her brow, "You've been staring into space for ages."

She was worried about him, he realized. That pleased him more than he'd like to admit. Despite his best efforts, he'd grown genuinely fond of Abby in their time together, at first because of how similar she could be to Alice and then, as their friendship had developed, for how distinctly Abby she was. She was one of those things that he had gotten attached to in this pretend life, one of the things that made being Connor enjoyable. So of course he'd almost cocked that up when he'd gone out with Caroline. Though, in his defense, she made a big show of how much she wasn't interested in him, so he'd found someone to blow off steam with for a little while. It was hardly his fault if she didn't like his choice of momentary distraction.

Realizing she was still waiting for an answer, he flashed her a slight smile, "I'm fine. Just thinking."

"Anything profound?" She teased, some of the tension in her shoulders melting away when he smiled at her.

"Thinking I should call me mum." He shrugged. That was a half truth, he was planning on calling Carol and she had been like a mum to him since he'd come to this world. It was also a dirty trick. He'd noticed some time ago that Abby did not like to talk about her family, which meant in turn, she didn't like to talk about his family because she seemed to think it would invite return inquiries, so if he mentioned Carol, she would change the subject. As usual, she did not disappoint.

"Given any thought to dinner?" She asked, suddenly finding the mess of papers on his desk very interesting, like not looking at him hid the fact that she was avoiding the topic.

"Pizza." He replied almost automatically. While it had started as an inside joke between him and Alice, his love of pizza had grown quite genuine over the years and he could suddenly understand why so many of the Oysters he'd met were on the chubby side.

Abby shot him an exasperated look, "Again? Come on, Connor, how about something with a vegetable in it?"

"Pizza sauce is a vegetable… I think." He gave her a cheeky grin, which didn't seem to impress her this time, "Fine. I'll make my spaghetti with the carrots in it. Just the way you like."

"Thanks you." Standing on her tippy-toes, she pecked his cheek. She'd been doing that with increasing frequency since Stephen's funeral, he noticed, his cheeks tinging pink against his will. Maybe it was just a friendly thing, but he was starting to wonder if maybe she was a little more open to the idea of being more than just friends than she let on. He ducked his head in a futile attempt to hide the blush and the goofy smile he couldn't keep off of his face. Not that it didn't mattered because Abby was already headed towards the door, through which they could hear Lester yelling about the Mammoth needing her attention if she was quite done slacking off. She paused in the door way, giving him one last brilliant smile, "See ya."

"See ya." He parrotted back, finally turning his attention back to his laptop and the work he was supposed to be doing. In perfect timing, apparently, as his computer chimed in the arrival of a new email. Clicking to open it, he froze as he read the contents. The email itself was a little concerning as it had come from his own work email address, meaning he likely left it open on one of the public terminal computers… again, but the single sentence written inside sent a chill down his spine as he read it again.

_I know why you're here, Hatter._

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**Reviews keep me motivated.**


	2. Chapter 2

"... And you have no way of knowing who sent it?" Carol questioned on the other side of the line, her concern clear in her voice.

He bit his lip. He hated making Carol worry, more than almost anything else in this world. More than the utterly demented concept of zombies that the Oysters had dreamed up to scare and, apparently, entertain themselves. She had been so good to him, once she got over the initial shock and belief that he and Alice were on some sort of drug trip, she treated him like her own son and even let him call her mum. It wasn't fair to share this stress with her, but, well, he had no one else he could talk to. She was the only person in this world who really knew who he was.

"I haven't got a clue. It could have been anyone at the ARC." He kept his voice low, glancing out from the kitchen to make sure Abby couldn't hear him as he spoke as he didn't want to worry her either. She was on the couch, flipping through a magazine, waiting patiently for him to finish his phone conversation and their dinner.

"You need to be more careful, David." She chidded. He'd convinced her to call him Connor quite some time ago, as he had begun to prefer it, but when she was being stern, she always used his given name. "The people you work with? They won't understand you. You don't know how they'll react."

"Have me sectioned, most likely." He admitted glumly, "I hate keeping secrets. I came to this world so I could stop keeping secrets."

"I know." Carol's voice switched from stern to soothing and he couldn't help but close his eyes to listen to her. It had been a long time since he'd had a mum and it was a nice feeling. "I do worry, though. I couldn't bear losing you too."

"I know, Mum, I'll be careful." He promised, glancing up and catching sight of Abby hanging around the kitchen door, checking on him. "I gotta go. Dinner's ready."

"Okay." Carol conceded, "I love you. Come visit me soon."

"I'll do my best." He smiled, knowing it wasn't a request so much as a demand, "I love you too."

"Everything okay?" Abby asked as he hung up the phone, "You seem a little… stressed. And you were quiet the whole drive home. I didn't think that was even possible."

"Everything's fine." He could see in her eyes that she didn't believe him. "You know me, Abbs, I'm a nervous babbler. If something was wrong, I wouldn't be quiet."

"Uhuh." She didn't seem to believe that either, but she let it drop.

"Dinner's ready." He mentioned casually, motioning to the sauce that he had just taken off the heat.

As usual, that brought a smile to her face, "You know, I've always meant to ask. How did you get to be such a good cook?"

"A lot of trial and error and a few lessons from mum." He shrugged. That was true, he'd been a passable cook in his youth, he'd certainly never gone hungry, but when he'd arrived in this world, he and Carol had bonded in the kitchen. In fact, the loaded vegetable spaghetti sauce that had become so popular with Abby was one of her recipes.

He was prepared for her to change the subject, as usual, but instead she got a thoughtful look on her face as she dished up her pasta, "You said your mum moved to America?"

"Actually she's from there." He supplied. Her question caught him off guard, but he found it easy enough to string together a series of half truths to make a decent answer, "And I lived there with her for a little while after me dad died."

"You lived in America?" She raised an eyebrow at that, "Why'd you moved back?"

He hesitated, then shrugged, "I wanted to go home."

"Missed the weather?" She teased, nodding to the window separating them from the rain that was pelting down outside.

"Something like that." He half smiled, then gave her a questioning look, "You're curious tonight."

"Yeah." It was her turn to hesitate before she admitted, "I guess I just got thinking about you and your mum and I realized there's a lot I don't know about you. But I'd like to. Sorry."

"Abby, you're my best mate, you can ask me anything you like." He was surprised to find that he actually meant that, he didn't want to keep secrets, especially now that he was settling in to the idea that this was likely to be his life for, well, for the rest of his life. Assuming his anonymous emailer didn't mess things up for him of course. No, he decided then and there, whatever she asked him, he would answer as honestly as he could. As honestly as she would believe.

Abby hesitated, like maybe she didn't quite believe him when he said it was okay to ask, but then she seemed to make up her mind, "How old were you when your dad died?"

"Thirteen." He answered honestly.

She nodded solemnly, twirling pasta on her fork, "How long did you live in America?"

"Five years." Also honest.

"That's a long time when you're that young." She commented, "Do you still have family here?"

"No." Honest.

"So you moved all the way back here, all alone? I can't imagine what would inspire you to do something like that." She admitted, making intense eye contact with her dinner. When he hesitated, she glanced up to meet his eye, "You don't have to tell me."

"No, I should… I've kept it to myself for a long time. Maybe too long." He admitted, pausing to gather his thoughts. He had never talked to anyone other than Carol about Alice, it was hard to want to, knowing that none of his friend here knew her. No one here could ever really understand the light and warmth and softness she'd brought to his life and how utterly lost he often felt without her. But he also knew that keeping it all to himself was only compounding his feelings of loss and loneliness and it was only a matter of time before it metastasized into something bitter and awful inside of him. He took a slow, shaky breath in, "There was a girl. In America. Alice. I loved her more than I ever thought possible and for reasons that are beyond me, she loved me, too. And after her… I couldn't look at anything there the same way again. Without her the only thing that made anything tolerable was the thought of going home."

He could tell that was not what Abby had expected to hear from the way her mouth hung open a little. He knew the rumours that went around the ARC, the speculation about his romantic inexperience, assumptions that he was a virgin. He'd never really felt the need to correct them, it didn't matter to him what most of them thought of him in that regard, but he was a little satisfied to have set Abby straight. She gave a heavy exhale, "Wow, I'm sorry, Conn. I can't imagine having a break up so bad that it would put you off an entire country."

"Oh. No. Abby…" He faltered as he realized her misunderstanding, "Abby, she… she died."

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Connor's confession knocked Abby off kilter. The idea that he was still pining for some girl who had dumped him had been like a lump stuck in her throat, but the knowledge that he was pining for a girl who had died? Well, that lump dropped all the way down to the pit of her stomach like a rock. They had reverted back to their usual idle chit chat and work gossip for the remainder of their dinner and, once the dishes were done, she claimed to have a headache and slipped away to her room. She really had intended on turning in early, but now, after hours of laying in bed, she found herself still awake thinking about what he had told her.

Connor's confession knocked Abby off kilter. The idea that he was still pining for some girl who had dumped him had been like a lump stuck in her throat, but the knowledge that he was pining for a girl who had died? Well, that lump dropped all the way down to the pit of her stomach like a rock. They had reverted back to their usual idle chit chat and work gossip for the remainder of their dinner and, once the dishes were done, she claimed to have a headache and slipped away to her room. She really had intended on turning in early, but now, after hours of laying in bed, she found herself still awake thinking about what he had told her.

Connor was an odd fellow. She'd always known that. How could she not? He'd blackmailed his way into her flat years ago, giving her a front row seat to his weird habits and peculiar mannerisms, not to mention his… unique style. But despite all that, she'd found herself becoming rather fond of him, perhaps even attracted to him in spite of her best efforts, and she was pretty sure that he felt the same way. When they first met, he had flirted with her fairly heavily, which she had actively discouraged, but that had all stopped when he met Cruella De Vil and she had been annoyed to find that suddenly she missed it. When he blurted out his panicked declaration of love and then ended his relationship with the wicked witch, she had thought that maybe he was finally going to make a real move on her. But nothing had happened. She had initially blamed her constantly pushing him away, wondering if she'd been too good at making him think she wasn't interested, but now she wondered if there wasn't more to it. It was, of course, very likely that she'd scared him off with her constant rejections, but now she couldn't help but think that maybe some of it had to do with this Alice as well. She could imagine it would be hard to start another, hopefully, serious relationship after being crushed like that.

Rolling over for what felt like the hundredth time that night, she finally sat up, stuffing her fingers through her hair in frustration. She knew Connor had already gone to bed, she'd heard him retreat up the stairs about an hour before, and she didn't want to be the one to rub salt in the wound, but she was burning with questions. Before she really even thought about what she was doing, she was at the bottom of the loft stairs with her foot on the bottom step. She stopped herself there. What was her plan? Wake him up and grill him about his dead girlfriend? She couldn't do that, she decided, turning to retreat.

"Abby?"

She jumped out of her skin at the sound of his voice. She hadn't noticed him sitting on the landing, shrouded in darkness, but she could just barely make out his outline as he moved. She shot him a glare that she wasn't sure he could see, "Connor, you scared the hell out of me! What are you doing?"

"What am I doing? What are you doing?" He asked, an annoying amused tone in his voice. The silence that she let follow his question must have tipped him off to some approximation of her feelings, because his voice softened, "Can't sleep?"

"Too much on my mind." She admitted, "You?"

"Yeah. Same." There was a slight pause, "Sorry."

"I asked." She pointed out, rubbing her arms absentmindedly to ward off the chilly night air.

There was another pause, this one long enough to make her foolishly wonder if he was still there, as though Connor had the grace or stealth to navigate the stairs in the dark without her hearing him. When he finally did speak, his voice did that cute little trembling thing it did when he was nervous, usually specifically about speaking to her, "Abby, I… You… you were coming upstairs."

"I was." She admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Do you want to come upstairs?"

"... Yeah." She followed him as he retreated up the stairs, pausing at the top while he flopped unceremoniously on his bed. It was far easier to see up here with the moonlight streaming through the skylight, she could make out his features, his hoodie and old t-shirt, the way his sweatpants hung quite low on his hips. She blushed a little, suddenly a little irrationally afraid of being seen by him in return. And being in his space. Like she'd never hung out in his room before. Or wandered about the flat in her pants and vest. After a moment, he seemed to catch on to her hesitance, sitting up and patting the bed beside him. Crawling onto the bed beside him, she sat with crossed legs, choosing to stare at the blanket she was nervously picking fluff off of instead of meeting his eye. She was understandably nervous. Or, at least, it was understandable to her.

"Abby…" He reached out, his fingers barely brushing her wrist, but it was enough to make her still and glance up at him, "Are you cold?"

Her first instinct was to deny it, but she realized that she was, in fact, shivering a little and that was likely why he was asking. She reluctantly nodded. Without hesitation, he shrugged off his hoodie and wrapped it around her shoulders. She hadn't really noticed how cold she was until she pulled it on properly, hugging it tightly around herself. It was warm from his body heat and smelled like him in a way she found embarrassingly comforting. "Thank you."

He was silent in return, watching her for a long moment with an unreadable look on his face before he finally reminded her, "Abby, I meant what I said earlier. You can ask me anything."

"I don't want to ask you to talk about something painful." She admitted, returning once again to avoiding his gaze, "But I… I was wondering… what she was like? Alice, I mean."

"You would have loved her." He declared, catching Abby by surprise. When she glanced back up at him the corner of Connor's mouth turned up into a little half smile, "Or, at least, I like to think you would have. She was smart and brave and really tough."

"So you have a type then." She joked, though she couldn't hide a slight wince as she thought of Caroline.

He must have known what she was thinking because he wrinkled his nose, "I guess, but Alice was kind, even to people who could do nothing for her. And she was ridiculously loyal to the people she cared about, even when it was inconvenient to her. I think that's what first made me like her. I'd never met someone like that before."

"What happened to her?" She asked tentatively.

He gave a sharp, bitter laugh that sounded far too loud in the atmosphere of the dimly lit room, flopping down on the bed again so he could stare up at the night sky through the skylight, "She was hit by a car two blocks away from home. The driver didn't even stop to see if she was okay."

"I'm sorry." It didn't feel like enough, but it was all she could think to say, even if she could barely get her voice above a whisper. "You must miss her terribly."

"I do." He nodded, a little frown crossing his features, "I think I always will, but… but it's been three years and me whole life is different in a really good way. I'm moving on. I think she would have wanted that for me. Even if it means that I love… er, um… even if it means that I fancy someone else now."

Abby's heart skipped a beat. Was it selfish to hope he meant her? It had been nearly four months since he'd yelled out his feelings for her in the Mercreature's future and then promptly denied it, she was starting to wonder if she had actually heard him wrong but now? She couldn't help the little glimmer of hope that maybe she hadn't ruined all her chances by pushing him away so often. Catching his eye, she gave him a soft smile, "I think she would want you to be happy, Connor."

"I think so, too." He returned her smile slightly, then a strange look passed over his features, "Abby, would you…?"

He seemed to think better of what he was about to ask, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks, but she wasn't going to let him off that easy, "What is it?"

He shook his head, "It's a dumb question."

"Connor." Her voice took on a slightly scolding tone, "You just let me root around in one of your most painful memories. I think, just this once, you can ask me a dumb question."

"Well, I was just wondering…" He hesitated again, but a raised eyebrow from her seemed to assure him that she wasn't going to let him drop it, "I was just wondering if you would stay here tonight? I can't sleep and it's really… lonely. I'll stay on this side of the bed, I swear."

She hesitated for a moment, thinking through her options, then nodded and shuffled down so she was laying on her side beside him, "Okay, I'll stay. On one condition."

He rolled onto his side, giving her a goofy grin that made her heart skip again, "Anything."

"Forget the last bit." She bit her lip nervously as confusion flickered across his face, "Don't… don't stay on that side of the bed."

His face visibly flushed, "Abby, are you asking me to…?"

"I'm… I'm just asking for a bit of a cuddle." She faltered, "If you want to. I'm feeling a bit lonely myself."

"Come here." He held his arms open to her without hesitation, letting her snuggle into his chest in a way she would never have considered doing just six months before. He held her gently around the waist with one arm, his other hand finding its way to lightly stroke her hair, "This good?"

"Perfect." She breathed, her eyes drooping, immediately lulled by his warmth and scent and the beat of is heart, "G'night."

"Night Abby."

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**This chapter got really soft and domestic and shippy and, um, I'm kind of not sorry. Hope you enjoyed it.**

**Reviews keep me motivated :)**


	3. Chapter 3

Connor woke from the best night sleep he'd had in years. He guessed Abby felt the same because usually she was up well before him, but today she remained snuggled in his arms, her slow, even breath warm against his neck. He didn't want to move or even open his eyes for fear that she might just evaporate away. Or worse, he'd wake her and they'd do what they always did. Smile awkwardly, blush, and then pretend this never happened. He sighed quietly, absentmindedly tracing little patterns on her back. He didn't want to be the way they always were. He was tired of dancing around his feelings for her, the ones he hoped she was finally ready to return. But just in case she wasn't, he wanted to savor this moment a little longer.

Rex, it seemed, had other priorities. Connor heard the tell tale flutter of his leathery wings and the little sounds of his feet scuttling along the edge of the loft railing to just above their heads, followed by an indignant little squawk to let them know that he didn't appreciate his breakfast being late. Much to Connor's disappointment, Abby stirred at the sound, lifting her head from the crook of his neck as the little dinosaur squawked a second time.

"Shhhh, Rex," She scolded quietly, a hint of amusement in her voice, "Connor is pretending to still be asleep."

Ah, busted, he realized, eyes still closed but unable to keep the corners of his lips from twitching towards a smile, "I'm not pretending."

She chuckled at that, her whole body vibrating against his with the sound of it. He couldn't help himself, he slowly blinked his eyes open, taking in what was quite possibly the loveliest sight he'd seen in years. She was still snuggled tightly against him, but had propped herself up on one elbow so she was gazing down at him from above, her other arm still draped over his chest lazily. His awe at her beauty must have shown on his face because as she noticed him looking, her laughter trailed off, replaced with a blush, "What?"

"Nothing, sorry, it's just…" He hesitated, a light blush tinting his own cheeks, "You stayed."

"I said I would." She reminded him softly, a slight smile playing across her lips. Suddenly, something seemed to catch her attention on the bedside stand and she groaned in annoyance, "Connor, it's half seven already! Why don't you ever set your alarm?"

He tried to swallow the pathetic whimper that crawled its way up his throat as she rolled out of his grasp and eased herself out of bed, only really managing to be half successful, "I don't need to. You always wake me when you get done in the shower."

"Well, I won't be showering today, now will I?" She complained, retreating down the stairs to get ready for work.

He watched her go with a little sigh. The truth was, he had ironically never really been good with time. How could he be? In Wonderland she was such a fickle force, coming and going on a whim, affecting some while ignoring others, no one really bothered to keep track. The idea that here time marched on at a steady pace for everyone all the time somehow still escaped him from time to time. It really was best if he let someone else handle the time management side of things.

Reluctantly, he dragged himself out of bed, though it wasn't half as hard now that it was empty, and scoured his room for acceptable clothes. It was a good day for a Han Solo t-shirt, he decided, pulling one of his favourites on over jeans and pairing it with his favourite black waist coat, a gray scarf, and his dark blue hoodie. Selecting his best hat, he placed it carefully utop his head, turning to admire himself in the mirror. He knew he wasn't very fashionable by his world's standards, Alice had often teased him about his clothing choices, but in the end she had always admitted that there was something about his dress sense that was delightfully, uniquely Hatter.

He faltered at that thought. His clothes made him feel comfortable and like himself, but perhaps after yesterday, it was best if he didn't look quite so… Hatter. Hesitantly, he removed his hat, placing it carefully back on the stand, then, after a moment's thought, gave his scarf and waist coat the same treatment. That was… better, he thought, stuffing his hand through his hair. His hair. Maybe he should cut it.

"Connor!" Abby called up the stairs, interrupting his ruminations, "Are you ready? We're going to be late!"

"I'm ready." He announced, bounding down the stairs to meet her, "Can I drive?"

"No." She answered automatically, but her attention seemed to be on his outfit, "Where are the rest of your clothes?"

Flushing a little, he glanced down at his outfit, "What do you mean?"

"... Nothing." She shook her head, "You just look a little different today, is all. More… you know."

"Normal?" He asked hopefully, shoving his feet into his sneakers.

"Um, yeah." She admitted, an odd tone in her voice.

"You look great." He informed her, taking in her rather lazy choice of t-shirt and cargo pants, but meaning it anyways. Then he flashed her a cheeky grin, "You should not shower more often."

His teasing had the desired effect as she stopped suspiciously eyeing his outfit in favor of rolling her eyes, "Oh, you… just get in the car!"

* * *

The note was waiting for him when he arrived at work, neatly typed and folded and tucked into his locker door.

_I can help you._

It was an unsettling offer for two reasons. The first, of course, being that it ruled out the possibility that someone had hacked his email in order to send him the message. It had to have been an ARC employee. And an Oyster. After all, who else in this world was capable of recognizing him?

The second reason was that this person had somehow discerned is original intentions of returning to Wonderland, one way or another, and believed they could make that happen. That suggested that his anonymous note writer was either a genius or a complete idiot.

Or both, he mused, in which case, maybe he had written the notes himself. That thought was amusing, but the moment of enjoyment he got from it was fleeting, leaving him once again in an understandably sour mood.

He emerged from the locker room with the note still clutched in his fist, scanning the faces of everyone he encountered to see if they looked familiar to him. It was a futile exercise, he had been working with most of these people for years, everyone was familiar to him, but no one really screamed "I was held captive by a mad queen in an otherworldly casino". No one even struck him as new, he realized, he knew all of these people at least a little. Maybe not as well as he thought.

"Are you okay?"

Jenny's voice dragged him back to the present moment and he countered her concerned look with a quizzical one of his own as he quickly stuffed the note in his pocket, "Oh, hi. Uh, yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"You've been death glaring at Fred for a full three minutes." Jenny informed him, motioning towards a rather nervous looking lab tech, "He's starting to wonder if maybe he's mortally offended you in some way."

"Oh… no, sorry." Connor blinked in surprise, registering the young man who's work station was in his eyeline for the first time, "Sorry Fred, I was just thinking. It's not your fault."

Fred gave a relieved sigh and, with a quick nod, returned to his work, but Jenny didn't seem so easily convinced, "You're sure you're okay? Your face was actually a little scary there for a minute, which I didn't really think was possible."

"Jen, I'm fine." He forced one of his cheery smiles to put her at ease, "I'm just tired. Got a lot on me mind."

"Right." She gave him a kind smile, putting her hand on his bicep and giving a comforting little squeeze in that almost motherly manner she had, "I think we all do since Stephen died. If you ever need to talk about anything…"

"You'll be my first call." He promised, nodding towards his lab, "I'd, uh, better get to work before Lester accuses me of slacking."

He was glad that was all it took for her to let him go. Jenny, he had noticed, tended to behave like a step-mother to the team. She seemed to have the desire to mother at least Abby and Connor, but in a hesitant manner, like she wasn't quite sure where the boundaries where so she thought it was best if she didn't push too hard. Normally he would appreciate her concern for him, but today it was time he couldn't be bothered to spare, not when this world's time insisted on ticking by in such a consistent manner and he had an anonymous note writer to identify.

The security footage was the best place to start, he decided, and it was easy enough for him to hack into. A few quick keystrokes and he was patched in to the camera just outside the locker room and all of the hundreds of hours of stored footage. Lucky for him, he only needed anything that had been recorded after he'd left the night before. Selecting the timeframe he needed and playing it on fast forward, he got comfortable in his seat. All there was to do now was wait.

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	4. Chapter 4

As usual, when Connor was called to Lester's office, his mind ran through all the things he could possibly be in trouble for, but for once, there wasn't a whole lot. It had been a thankfully quiet week, only one Anomaly Alert which had gone remarkably smoothly as no creatures had found their way though and had provided him with very few opportunities to make a mess of things, so it likely wasn't something related to that. That really only left two options, the fact that he and Abby were keeping up a steady stream of perhaps less than subtle flirting and, of course, the notes. As he considered the second option, Connor found himself almost hoping he was about to be lectured about office romances.

It had been four days since the first note had appeared in his locker and he had received a new email every afternoon and a new note every morning since. Every morning except this morning, he noted, which was worrying because the notes were becoming increasingly threatening, moving from offering help in his endeavor to find a way home to requesting and now demanding that he take them with him when he went. If he went.

"Did you find what you were looking for on the security tapes?" To his credit, there was very accusation in Lester's tone as he posed the question while shuffling papers around his desk in a casual manner.

It didn't matter, Connor couldn't help wincing anyways, shifting nervously in his seat, "Security tapes?"

Lester raised an eyebrow at the younger man, "Don't play me for a fool, Connor. I know you've been hacking the security footage all week. So? Did you find what you were looking for?"

"Sort of…" He admitted, sheepishly. The security footage had shown a figure in a hooded jacket entering and exiting the locker room at the right time to be his note writer, but of course he couldn't make out any distinguishing details about them.

"I see." Lester's tone was grim as he opened the top drawer of his desk, retrieving a folded piece of paper and dropping it on the desk in front of him, "Might I assume that your interest has something to do with this?"

Connor's heart raced as he reached for the paper with one trembling hand. Unfolding it and reading the contents, he tried to decide how bad he thought this was going to be. The note was surprisingly benign, he realized, staring at it dumbly, especially considering it had been in Lester's possession. In fact, it seemed like it had been intended for him and was much along the same lines as the one he had received the day before.

_You know what I want. If you won't help me, I'll make sure everyone knows your secret._

He had been quiet too long, it seemed, as Lester started talking again. "I was looking through the footage you hacked and I noticed that you were particularly interested in who was coming and going from the locker room at night. The night shift didn't notice anything out of the ordinary, but when I came in this morning, that note was sticking out of your locker. Given the nature of the note and that you have accessed now four days worth of security footage, I'm guessing that's not the first one you have received."

Connor shook his head glumly. He should have been more careful while poking around, he realized, if Lester of all people had caught on, who knew who else had noticed. "This one makes six."

"I see. It seems you have picked up a rather impatient extortionist. And I don't supposed you'll tell me this secret they're threatening you with."" Lester huffed, giving Connor a disapproving look. When Connor shook his head, his frown deepened, "And this request they've made of you?"

"I can't help them." Connor complained miserably, "Back when we first started the ARC and researching anomalies, I built this device and whoever this person is, they want to use that device, but it's never worked! The whole project was based on a wild theory. I gave up on it a long time ago."

"I see." Lester repeated, sighing heavily, steepling his hands as he regarded Connor, "I will discreetly post a security team outside the locker room tonight, see if we can't catch our mysterious friend in action. In the mean time, you act as normal as possible."

A wave of relief washed over Connor, "I… I'll do my best. Thank you."

"Right, well, I'm sure you have actual work you could be doing." Lester waved him off dismissively.

For once, Connor left Lester's office feeling better than when he went in. He knew the older man came across as a little cold towards his employees, but Connor always got the sense that he cared more than he let on. Of course Connor wasn't always the best judge of character. Even in Wonderland, where misjudging someone's intentions could be a matter of life and death, he'd always been a little too trusting and optimistic. It had been a relief when he'd come to this world and found it was, for the most part, safe to abandon his carefully crafted mask of hypervigilant cynicism. Maybe he had gone a little too far the other way now, he was always the first person to suggest that someone deserved the benefit of the doubt, but most of the time it seemed to work in his favor. And he was, by this time, fairly confident in his assessment of Lester.

When he reached his lab, Abby was there waiting for him, perched on the edge of his desk with an endearingly concerned look on her face, "Are you okay? What did Lester want?"

Ah, that made sense, she'd seen him get called into the office.

"I'm alright." He assured her with a crooked half smile, hands stuffed deep in his pockets, "I'm not in trouble. Lester's just helping me with somethin'."

"Lester is helping you?" She parroted back, brow arching in disbelief, "What could _Lester_ possibly be helping you with."

He could see how that sounded a little unlikely, he and Lester had fairly different skill sets as far as he knew. Still, he shrugged, giving her some approximation of the truth, "I think I found a potential weakness in our security, so Lester's going to look into it further."

That answer seemed to relax her a bit, her gaze softening, "Is that what's had you so worked up lately? You've been off for days."

"I don't want another Oliver Leek." He admitted honestly, wincing a little as he remembered everything they'd gone through in the traitor's underground facility. It wasn't quite topping the list of the worst things he'd endured, but he hardly cared to repeat any part of the experience.

Abby clearly shared his feelings because she wrinkled up her nose at the very idea, hopping off the desk and crossing the room to where he stood. Standing on her toes, she leaned in, causing his breathe to catch a little as she pressed her lips to his cheek briefly, smiling slightly as she pulled back, "Well, I'm glad to hear you're looking out for us."

He grinned in return, fingers brushing the spot where she'd kissed, though his giddiness quickly faded as she began retreating from the lab, "Oi, where're you going?"

"I've got work to do, Connor." She reminded him, looking back at him with a stern, but good humored look, "And so do you. I was just checking you were okay."

"Abby…" He groaned, rolling his eyes, though he made no further attempt to keep her. She was right, he did have work to do. He took off his hat, for the first time in nearly a year, feeling along the lining for the all but invisible pocket he'd stitched into it. It wasn't nearly as clever or magical as the hat tricks he was used to using back home, but the pocket was enough to hide the small flash drive that he had stored his personal research on.

He knew a lot more about anomalies now, he realized, than the last time he'd looked through the specs for what he had rather blandly called his "mirror device", so maybe he could make it work now…

He had to admit, it was kind of exciting to be dabbling in his old research again, applying the new things he'd learned to old theories and actually seeming to get close to making things work. He'd become so absorbed in the project, he didn't even realize the day was drawing to an end until Abby came to collect him for their drive home, and even then, he had continued scribbling ideas on the bundle of notes he hadn't quite fit in his bag with his laptop.

"What on earth are you working on?" Abby teasingly demanded, trying to get a peek at his notes while sitting at a red light, a couple blocks from their flat.

"Oi, watch the road." He shot back as the light changed and the car behind them honked, "It's nothing. Just an idea I've been working on for a while."

"The latest new anomaly tech?" She guessed with a wiggle of her eyebrows, though she reluctantly turned her attention back to driving, "Should I be excited?"

"Um… no." He decided, shooting her a sheepish glance, "It's probably not going to even work."

"How many times did you say that about the anomaly detector." She pointed out, pulling into their parking spot, "What does it do?"

Stuffing the papers into the top of his bag, he pulled a face, "I don't want to say. I don't want to jinx it."

"Oh, come on," She pouted, grabbing her bag from the back seat and starting towards their front door, "Please!"

"Abby…!" His whiny protest faded quickly as they approached the front door, which was sitting slightly ajar. His stomach twisted with anxiety as he glanced from the door, to Abby, and back again. Her sudden silence and lack of forward motion let him know that she'd seen it too, but he held his arm out as if to hold her back anyways, "Abby, stay here."

"Connor, don't!" She hissed as he crept towards the door, "Connor, we should call the police!"

"They'll see Rex." He pointed out in a hushed tone, though that was the least of his actual worries. It was likely too much of a coincidence, he decided, for this to not be related to his notes which meant the police were the last people he wanted around. Most Wonderlanders were some degree of dangerous and the last thing he wanted was Abby caught in the crossfire if things got ugly. "Just wait here. I'm going to take a look."

"Connor, no!" She insisted, taking a few steps after him, "Someone could still be in there!"

"Abby, just…! Just stay here, please." He begged, giving her one last pleading look before he pushed the door open a little further and slipped into the flat. At first, nothing seemed particularly amiss, nothing broken or missing, no sign that anyone had actually entered the flat. If he didn't so vividly remember locking the door that morning, he would have thought maybe it just didn't latch right on their way out.

And then he saw them. The figure for the security tape. His anonymous note writer. Hearing his arrival, the figure slowly rose from the sofa and turned to face him with a chilling smile, "Hello Hatter."

He felt the blood drain from his face as he recognized them, "You?! It can't be…!"

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